


The Planets Bend Between Us

by IdrisTardis7878



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, get it together, scottish dorks dorking around, seriously you two, welcome to the trash clan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisTardis7878/pseuds/IdrisTardis7878
Summary: Merida knows she can rule DunBroch on her own, even if her councilors don't seem to think so - once again pushing the idea of an arranged marriage in her direction. But while she CAN lead the kingdom on her own, her evolving relationship with a certain cocky clan-lord makes her rethink whether or not she wants to. Funny thing is, this time 'round he's not pursuing her - or is he?A Merintosh romance.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'd gotten several really lovely queries about whether I had an AO3 account and whether I'd be moving this fic over to it, in particular, so I'm making it the first fic I upload over here now that I do in fact have an account!! This was previously posted on tumblr without a title - there are currently 2 chapters, and a third is partly written. I had at one point mapped out as many as 12, so I'm not sure how long it will end up being, but I hope you all enjoy however much there turns out to be!!

“ _Again_ , Mum?!” Merida pushed open the door to her chambers with more force than was likely to be strictly ladylike, but thankfully managed to reach out and catch its edge before it crashed into the stone wall behind it. She left the door standing open as she crossed the wide antechamber, knowing her mother wasn’t far behind and would close it behind her when she arrived. While she waited for her mother to appear, she attempted to reign in the urge to stomp her way to her inner bedchamber –only _just_ succeeding.

Mercifully, her mother didn’t comment on Merida’s childish behavior when she trailed into the room, but the look on her face made it clear that the conversation Merida had attempted to walk away from was far from over. “Aye, _again_. My dear, given the events of the past year, you can’t tell me you’re surprised?”

Merida sank down into a low chair in front of the unlit fireplace, slumping back into the cushions in a way she knew would instinctively irritate her mother. Elinor merely arched her eyebrow, but Merida stubbornly refused to move, crossing her arms over her chest as she huffed in annoyance. “No, but I _am_ disappointed. After this past year, and all I’ve done t’unite the clans and keep the kingdom safe…and the council still doesn’t think I can rule on my own. Some great, hulking oaf sharing the crown would make ‘em feel better about my ability t’lead.” She laughed briefly, and bitterly. “Some things never change.”

Her mother moved across the room and sat gracefully in the chair facing hers, the expression on her face softening in sympathy. “Oh, my dear love, no. That’s not exactly why-”

“They probably don’t even have any new suggestions! Dingwall and Macguffin are nice enough lads when ye get t’know ‘em, and good in a fight…but King of Dunbroch? It’s too much for ‘em,” she continued as if her mother hadn’t spoken. “They do alright as clan leaders, but king?” She shook her head decisively as if to clear it. “No.”

“Merida! Breathe!” her mother interjected, and she realized that she’d gotten so wrapped up in her thoughts that she’d been rattling on to herself without pause. “That’s better. Now, as I was saying, after the events of this past year – when you went _missing_ for several months – the council started t’be concerned. Ah, ah, ah!” she held up her finger in warning when Merida opened her mouth to object again. “Not about your leadership, my brave, brilliant girl. After all you’ve done there’s not a soul in Dunbroch that disputes your claim to the throne or your ability to lead your people.”

“Then what the devil is the council so worried about?”

Her mother’s brow arched again, and Merida should have taken it as a sign she wouldn’t like what the older woman was about to say. Sure enough, she was proven right by her mother’s answer. “Succession. You are a strong ruler for this land, my lass. But even the strongest of leaders needs to ensure their legacy.”

* * *

The autumn sunlight bathed the valley in a golden glow as the late afternoon passed slowly by, setting the trees alight with color and lending a dreamlike quality to the landscape. Merida was perched in her favorite thinking spot – a large, level rock jutting out of the hillside and overlooking the flat plain below – her legs crossed beneath her and a few stalks of heather in her lap. She toyed aimlessly with the flowers as she gazed at her troops executing battle drills in the wide, open space below her. Truth be told though, her thoughts were elsewhere and she stared at the men without really seeing them. Her mind kept replaying the conversation she’d had with her mother a few days earlier – though she still thought the council was acting like a blithering bunch of idiots, she couldn’t get her mother’s final comments out of her head. They kept snagging her thoughts, tickling at the back of her mind, and demanding her attention – especially when she _least_ wanted them to.

_“Succession. You are a strong ruler for this land, my lass. But even the strongest of leaders needs to ensure their legacy.”_

_“Agh…Mum-”_

_Elinor shook her head and continued speaking, effectively interrupting Merida’s complaint. “I notice you didn’t mention Lord Macintosh.”_

_“-I can’t think about that yet. I have to…what?” she asked, startled._

_“Lord Macintosh. You didn’t say anything about him when you were decrying the council’s potential candidates for royal consort.”_

_“I just hadn’t finished yet,” Merida blurted, flustered. “I was getting around to him.”  
_

_“Hm,” her mother hummed, a considering look upon her face. “I’m sure you were.”_

_Merida rose to her feet and began to pace in front of the fireplace. “Look – just because he **might** be less of a fool than t’other two doesn’t mean I’m in some great rush to bind myself to him for the rest of our days. You say the council trusts me – why d’they have t’push this so hard?”_

_Elinor stood and moved in front of her, effectively putting a stop to her frantic pacing. She reached up and tucked a curl of Merida’s unruly hair back behind her ear before settling a gentle hand on her shoulder. “They **do** trust you, and we all believe in you. I **know** you can lead on your own. My only question for you, daughter, is do you really **want** to have to?”_

Her mother’s words had made her realize that she’d spent so much of the last year – hell the last _several_ years – focused on what was needed, and thinking about her duty to Dunbroch and her family. She had not given more than a passing moment’s thought to any want that didn’t have to do with holding the crown or solidifying the kingdom in longer than she cared to think about. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken even a moment to think about what she wanted for herself as Merida, not as Queen of Dunbroch.

Thinking about it now both terrified and elated her.

But it was also giving her a headache and she hadn’t come up with any solid answers as of yet. As she pulled herself out of her reverie, she felt the weight of someone’s gaze on her back, a prickling sensation under her skin pulling her into the awareness that someone was behind her, watching.

Turning slightly, she was barely even surprised at who she saw there.

“Letting your men do all the hard work while you take a rest, Lord Macintosh?” she gestured in front of her at the group of men in the valley, but turned fully to face him. “Why am I not surprised?” Her teasing tone softened the sting of her words slightly.

A hint of a smile flickered across his face before disappearing as he stepped closer to where she sat. “Well, I have learned from the best, Milady,” he murmured, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he moved closer, his gaze locked on hers. “Considering you seem to be content t’sit in the sun while we work ourselves ragged.”

She glared sternly at him, but it only made him chuckle. “Why are you really here?” she asked, aiming for a firm, indifferent tone but fearing she fell somewhat short of the mark when that persistent smile twitched at the corners of his mouth again. _Not that she was paying attention to things like his smile. No, not at all._

He tilted his head as he regarded her, the mirth slipping from his expression, leaving his face serious but not somber. “In truth? I caught sight of ye sittin’ here, and was merely comin’ t’see if you’d be joinin’ us in the drills today, Milady.”

She set the heather aside on the rock and stood, brushing dust and bits of leaves from her skirts and facing him square on. “Not today, no. I have t’be gettin’ back to the castle,” she said, shaking her head. “That trade delegation from Arendelle’s due t’arrive any day now, and the council’s insisting we go over our bargaining points in the treaty for the bloody thousandth time.”

Macintosh nodded, a look of what seemed to be disappointment crossing his features, but it was gone before Merida could even be sure it had been there. He straightened, regarding her steadily. “Can I be of any assistance, Milady?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to tell him he could help her best by ensuring that the drills were running smoothly. So she was nearly as surprised as he was when she replied. “Aye, I don’t see what it could hurt. At the very least, ye can stop me from strangling MacLeod when he insists on prattlin’ on forever.”

The smile was more than just hinted at as he bowed mockingly low at her, saying as he rose. “As Milady wishes.” But when she expected him to fall in step with her towards the castle, he moved past her and began to walk down the hill in the opposite direction. At her look of puzzlement, he explained. “I’ll just let Dingwall know he should take over in the drills and then I’ll come t’find you in the council room.”

She nodded, then turned towards the castle, walking quickly away in an attempt to squash down the inner voice – the one that sounded suspiciously like her mother – that was asking her what the hell she was playing at.


	2. Chapter Two

The delegation from Arendelle, though delayed for a few additional days by a nasty storm at sea, eventually arrived in Dunbroch. For several days following their arrival, Merida found herself completely consumed by the ensuing trade negotiations as she and her councilors hashed out the terms of the new treaty between the two kingdoms. The meetings were long, often tedious, and though Merida knew they were vital to the economic health of her kingdom there was a part of her that desperately wished she didn’t need to sit through hour upon hour of mind-numbing bargaining. It wasn’t that she couldn’t follow the discussions – it was simply that the incessant haggling over sums and percentages was enough to make her eyes cross and her patience thin after a very, _very_ short amount of time.

She’d been surprised that Macintosh had stayed for the entire negotiation, assuming he’d have quickly thought better of his offer to help when the envoy from Arendelle had passed around the first massive sheaves of parchment and began droning on about an obscure import tax that they wanted to impose. All of the clan lords technically had a dedicated seat on her council, but they did not all choose to attend regularly outside of the mandatory meetings that came four times a year – once with the change of every season. Most of the council regulars were men who had been her father’s contemporaries – or those who were even older – the younger lords by and large choosing to spend their time in Dunbroch in more active pursuits. If she were in Macintosh’s position, she’d have escaped back to the training grounds as quickly as possible – but, even though dull meetings were not her favorite part of her royal duties, she knew that she was bound to stay until the treaty was thoroughly discussed and all points settled to both parties’ satisfaction.

 _You weren’t just surprised that he stayed, you were pleased_. The little internal voice that sounded too much like her mother piped up yet again, and Merida ruthlessly shoved it, and any possibility of what it could mean, out of her mind. Macintosh had proved himself to be nearly as skilled at the council table as he was on the battlefield – which was possibly the biggest surprise of all – and his advice on several key points had been invaluable in positively resolving the treaty with Arendelle. _Of **course** I was pleased that he stayed – he was a great help and I’m no fool_ , she told herself firmly, refusing to think about any other reason for her pleasure at his continued presence by her side.

And so it went – the Arendelle delegation’s visit setting the tone for the next several weeks. Be it council meetings, audiences with visiting dignitaries, or regular hearings of disputes between her people, Merida noticed Macintosh’s attendance at nearly all of them. He didn’t always participate – sometimes simply observing the proceedings in silence – but often he offered a quiet, and perceptive, word or two in her ear at just the right moment. Despite her naturally independent nature, she slowly came to find herself grateful for his assistance and was usually rather irked on the days that he could not be there. The voice made itself heard again one day after a particularly grueling hearing where she’d had to settle a thorny argument between two of the clans over land they both claimed as theirs. She’d finally resolved the situation to everyone’s satisfaction, but it had taken all afternoon and tempers – hers included – had flared more than once.

Macintosh had not been present that day, having left a few evenings prior to lead a scouting party along the southern border – after what had happened with Arthur the previous year, Merida was taking no chances and patrols led by different clan lords were regularly sent southward to keep watch – and the voice was insistent as she slumped back into her throne at the end of the hearing. _You miss him_ , it said, sounding smug. _You wish he were here right now with you instead of faffing about in the woods with his men._

“Agh, I do not!” she exclaimed, attempting to silence the pesky voice. Her words echoed around the now empty chamber, the great hall of the castle having cleared after the hearing had ended, leaving Merida alone with her thoughts. Or so she thought. She nearly jumped out of her skin when an amused voice sounded near her on her right side.

“Talkin’ t’yerself, milady? That cannae be a good thing.”

She turned to face a grinning Macintosh who was leaning against the wall behind her. “Are ye makin’ a habit of sneakin’ up on me?” she asked, attempting to cover her flustered state by putting him on the defensive. “And what’re you doing back so soon?”

He pushed off the wall, coming closer to where she sat. “It’s been three days, Merida…we finished our patrol this afternoon right on time.” He looked at her, an amused grin still tugging at his lips. “The border was clear, and Dingwall rode out tonight wi’his men right on schedule to take his turn scoutin’. You’ve naught t’worry about.”

“Oh…well, good,” she murmured softly, before remembering something. “And that’s _milady_ , laddie. Don’t be forgettin’ it.” Her gaze, which had been locked with his, drifted downwards and she finally noticed that he was carrying a pair of tumblers. “What’s that, then?”

“This?” his brow quirked upwards as he looked down at the cups. “Just a wee spot of whiskey, _milady_. Thought you might care for a bit of refreshment after a long day.” He held one of the tumblers out to her for a moment before pulling it back just as she reached for it. “Though now that I see ye sittin’ here, havin’ conversations wi’the air, I’m not so sure whiskey’s what ye need.”

“Pff, give it here,” she said jovially, standing and making a grab for the cup. “You know very well I can handle my liquor a far sight better than some I could name.”

He relinquished the tumbler to her with a laugh. “That was _one_ time, milady, and I was already a fair way gone wi’drink when ye challenged me. It was hardly an even contest.”

“Are ye questionin’ my abilities?” she teased, throwing him a pointed look.

“Never, milady,” he replied quickly with a grin. “I’ve learned my lesson on that front long ago.”

She arched a brow at him before taking a sip of the whiskey. After enjoying the burn of the liquor as it slid down her throat, she spoke again. “If it wasn’t a fair challenge, then why did ye accept?”

“Pride,” he answered without hesitation, before taking a sip from his own cup. “Besides, I can’t refuse my queen anything.”

There was a difference in his tone when he spoke the last few words that Merida couldn’t quite place. A beat of heavy, thick silence passed during which the only sound in the hall was the crackling of the fire in the gigantic hearth. The moment swelled, stretching between them until Merida broke it, turning away and taking another drink from her cup. “Mac, I –”

She wasn’t quite sure how that sentence was going to end, and, as it turned out, she wouldn’t get the chance to find out as Maudie stepped into view at the far end of the hall.

“Milady,” the older woman said softly, “I’m sorry t’bother ye, but your mother would like a word with you before supper. It’s about the letter that arrived yesterday with the messenger from the Southern Isles.”

Merida sighed. She didn’t really feel like discussing _that_ particular topic with her mother at the moment, but she also knew it would be worse if she kept putting the conversation off. She turned back to the other end of the hall, an apology on her lips. “Mac, I’m sorry, but I have to –”

But the spot where he’d been standing was already empty, and Merida felt a strange pang in her chest that she couldn’t _quite_ persuade herself was annoyance when she saw that he’d gone.

Maybe, just maybe, the little voice had been right – she _had_ missed him after all.

Maybe.


End file.
